


Dream

by Susspencer



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Love, M/M, Transformation, dream - Freeform, fears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 00:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14390688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Susspencer/pseuds/Susspencer
Summary: A dream that makes the dreamer believe he can fly free and get the things he dreams of.





	Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a picture challenge. The story is based on the picture at the top of the page. If you can not view the picture let me know.

 

 

 

 

Not really awake, eyes don’t want to stay open, I sit at the computer screen.  I need to get this down before I forget it. It was one hell of a dream. There I was a terrible mess.  Standing alone in a long golden dress. By myself in a field, ready to explode, to let my new life unfold.  To break free of the expectation of society, to fly, to float, to be free. All expectations gone. All preconceived notions blown.  Everyone accepting and moving along. No one ranting. No one hating. Just compassion and rest. I feel so full, so ready to fly. Ready for the old me, to lay down and die.

I throw back my shoulders, let loose my hair.  I close my eyes against the sea of stares, more eyes finding fault in me.  I feel the cocoons bursting open in my chest.

“Fly my pretties. Fly and be free.  Take away this discomfort from me.”

Take away the slow, torturous pain, that has gnawed at me, and gnawed at me, until I finally was changed.  Ten thousand little sufferings, one at a time, building and building, inside of my mind.

“You’re not good enough.”

“They only want you for your brain.”

“You can’t fight. You can’t shoot.  What good are you again?”

You watch one keep score and another die.  You try to do what’s right and then they tell you to lie.   The caterpillar of time, death, and hatred keeping score. The memories and loss making you sore.   All you want is sweet release. And maybe a few minutes of quiet and peace.

I get to a place that you feel good, pretty, and amazing.  Then here we go again. There’s another case. Will the locals look at me weird?  Will they think that 187 equals odd? Or will they see the connections that I am able to make as fortunate?  The fear, anxiety, the horror, the shame. How much will be left of me at the end of this one? I make a mistake, am trapped all alone.  I should’ve. I could’ve. How would I have known? I beg for my life. I beg for others. In the end, my trust is poured out in the hopes that you’ll understand.  As I am forced to dig my own grave, I take a chance, away flies the butterfly, named brave.

I turn and you are there.  The one that I trust in, the one who knew.  The man that I knew would come through. With a smile and hug, a few more cocoons start to spin.  Maybe just maybe, through these turmoils I’ll win. The beauty of hope and maybe love warm the creature within, perhaps the new one will be okay.  I can float back to sleep on that thought, but fear screams grab the drugs. They will ensure that your memories and pains are cocooned away for awhile.  

I can feel the caterpillars infesting my soul.  They come in with each injection. With each case that reminds me out how it felt on that cabin floor, walking out that cabin door to my grave.  The empathy, that I now possess with our victims, it hurts, it rips through me. Chewing away at the leaves of my soul. Then the pig farm, are there even words for this atrocity.  Even the caterpillars quickly spin their new homes, to hide from the cruelty. This is a day that makes me wonder why I even do this. Then I see your face, and I know you need me as much as I need you.  Transforming my heart a bit more.

I know you are in the process of becoming also.  With my eyes closed, I look at the dream again. I search the symbolism.  I smile because it is time for me to burst free. Dr. Spencer Reid needs to fly.  It is time to let the butterflies out. I shake my head, and hair. With a smile on my face, I stand from my desk and set my eyes on my goal.  Shoulders back, chest out, with no fear this time, those have flown, I knock on your door.

“Come in.” you answer,  

I walk in, close the door and look at you.

“Aaron, I have been in love with you for sometime.  Today, it is time to tell you.” I bravely say.

The transformation complete, I hear the last butterflies flutter away, when you smile at me.


End file.
